a gift of hope (to combat the darkness)
by hello pretty bird
Summary: blind!au:: The war has taken so much from Dean- his sight, his dreams, his art. But Seamus has a solution.


Falmouth Falcons, Beater 1

Mandatory: Write about a pet changing the owner's life

Optional: receiving a pet as a gift, pillow

Note: This is a blind!au

* * *

Your lips twitch, tugging into an amused smile as Seamus keeps his hand over your eyes. "You know you don't have to actually cover my eyes, right?" Your tone is light and teasing, coupled with a faint laugh. "I'm _blind._ The universe gave me its own bloody blindfold."

Seamus laughs, and your smile becomes more solid. That sound—soft and soothing, like the warmest of blankets wrapping around your soul—has been your only true comfort since losing your sight a month earlier during the final battle. If you're honest, you don't know what you would do without your boyfriend. Seamus has stayed by your side on the worst of days, never letting you drown in your own self-pity for long.

"Careful," he cautions, and his hands drop to your waist as he guides you along.

When he moves his hands, you can't help but open your eyes wider, as though you'll be able to regain your vision if you try hard enough. It doesn't work, of course; it never does, but you haven't learned to break that hopeful habit.

"Step down, Dean," Seamus instructs.

You carefully move your foot outward, your heart fluttering in a frenzy when you struggle to find solid ground. That panic doesn't seem to fade as time goes on. By now, you've adjusted to damn near every other obstacle that blindness has thrown at you, but you can't seem to shake the constant fear that the world is going to fall away.

"There we go," Seamus says when you finally set your feet firmly upon the ground.

"Are you going to tell me what this is about?" you ask, frowning. "You know I hate surprises."

"I know. But you're gonna love this one."

You don't argue. Seamus is excited, and that's all you need to be happy.

"And stop! Yeah, right there looks good," Seamus decides, and his grip loosens.

You tip your head to the side, trying to listen. His footsteps are still close, but they're more distant now. You're tempted to follow behind, curious as to where he's going and what he's doing, but you can't bring yourself to move. Plunged in eternal darkness, every new place is a terrifying landscape with unknown obstacles. Curiosity is not worth broken bones.

"Okay, come on," Seamus urges, and his voice is strangely high pitched and excited.

"Come… where?"

"Not you."

You're about to ask when you hear an unfamiliar sound. Seamus' footfalls thud against the ground, but there's something else mixed in—a soft, steady _tap, tap, tap,_ and heavy breathing. "Is that… a dog?" he asks.

"Not just any dog," Seamus answers proudly. "Talked to your mum about it, and she said Muggles have seeing eye dogs. Dunno what that actually mean since I thought all dogs saw with their eyes… But she said it would help you."

You open your mouth, ready to explain the concept to him, but you change your mind. There are more important things to deal with first. You kneel, patting your hand against the cold tile floor, whistling. There's another _tap, tap, tap_ of claws against the floor until you feel a paw tap against your hand.

"I even named him," Seamus says excitedly. "Ham, like the toeball blokes you like."

"Football," you correct automatically, chuckling as you reach up and run your fingers through the dog's thick fur. "What's he look like?"

"Er… He's big," Seamus supplies. "Bit shaggy."

"Big and shaggy, Shay? Really?"

Your boyfriend snorts. "White with black and grey spots? Excuse me for not being a bloody poet."

Silence falls. For a moment, you lose yourself in listening to Ham's steady breathing and the soft fur against your skin. Even if you can't see him, you're sure that he's gorgeous.

"Mum would never let me get a dog before," you muse, carefully pushing yourself up. "She was always worried my sisters would want one, and we'd end up with a zoo."

Your movements are cautious and unsure. You reach out, wobbling slightly as you grip Seamus' shoulders and pull yourself to him. Finding his lips is easy enough. It doesn't matter that you can't see him; you have had years of experience stealing kisses in dark classrooms, and it is the most natural thing in the world now.

"Best gift ever," you tell him.

"I thought _I_ was your best gift," he teases.

"You're not a dog, so your assumption is invalid."

Seamus smacks your arm lightly. "Oi!"

 **x**

You whistle and pat your mattress, laying back and letting yourself sink slightly into the pillow. With a happy bark, Ham jumps in bed beside you. His tail wags eagerly, thumping against your leg.

"Easy, boy," you laugh as his tongue trails over your face. "Sit!"

You feel the subtle shift of the mattress as he obeys. That's one thing you like about him; he has proven to be easy to train, which is good since you don't know the first thing about it.

You stretch out, and Ham lays beside you, his head resting half on your shoulder and half on your pillow. With a laugh, you reach up, scratching behind his ears. "You know, that's actually _my_ pillow," you tell him, but he doesn't listen.

You can feel his head shifting about as he rubs against your pillow. "Cheeky git," you chuckle.

There are soft footsteps in the hall, and Ham sits up, letting out an excited bark. "Knock knock," Seamus calls, and you hear the creak and groan as your door opens.

"You could actually knock, you know," you tease, sitting up and turning to face his general direction. "Reasonably sure that's what normal people do, Shay."

Ham takes advantage of your new position. His cold, damp nose presses against the small of your back, nudging you forward so that he can commandeer your pillow and claim it as his own. With a grin, you shake your head, rubbing his sides.

"Luckily, no one has ever accused me of being normal," Seamus laughs, his voice getting louder as he gets closer.

"Luckily," you echo.

You inhale deeply, breathing in his familiar scent of cedar and earth. A small smile pulls at your lips, and you reach out for him. His hands find yours, and he leans in, his lips brushing against yours teasingly. "You look happier," he notes.

"I am."

Seamus sits beside you, his hand still gripping yours tightly, like a lifeline you never want to lose. The mattress dips slightly under his weight. "Things with Ham are working out?" he asks.

"Well, he keeps stealing my pillow," you say, gesturing towards the pillow in question, which now tends to smell like your dog and have traces of drool along the edges. "But otherwise, it's been a good week. We managed to walk through the park yesterday."

Seamus leans against you, his head resting on your shoulder. You smile to yourself, caressing his neck with feather-light strokes. "At least you're getting your independence back," he says, nuzzling against you.

"I wouldn't even have that if you hadn't given me Ham," you tell him. "Thank you."

And maybe things aren't perfect. The Healers have made it clear that you'll never see again, and you have had to give up your dreams of becoming an artist. The dark days are over, though; you will never give in to the misery and feel sorry for yourself.

You have Seamus and Ham by your side, and you know everything will be okay.


End file.
